Another birthday in the books. It certainly was great, made more so in the face of our current predicament, and only because of the people there with me. The place and the food and any other detail would not have mattered.

From the welcoming hugs of relatives who haven't seen me for a long time, to the teary goodbyes of now-former housemates, I can't help but feel that if I were to die today, my loss would be mourned. It gives me fuzziness and an uplifting, albeit morbid, jolt to realize that I am good enough to be sorely missed. In the end I might not care how far I've come so long as the journey was shared.

I bask in a strange feeling of freedom. Even with the Ten of Swords in the back of my mind, a sort of hope fills the air.